wanna go HOME now...
SATAN DRIVES TO WORK

 
  Yep

26 October 2001


4:38 PM: Wednesday night, saw Nocturne at Berkeley Rep. Eh. Too many words. Very flat delivery. Not theater. "I asked him if I could take a leak. 'Can I take a leak?', I said. He told me to go ahead. 'Go ahead', he said, in his cute little creaky old-man voice. It was like the creak of a door that needed oiling, or that maybe was just not hanging right on its hinges since the last quake, the way that I hadn't been hanging right on the hinges of life since the tectonic plates of my destiny ground together and burst apart on that sunny summer day 15 years ago." Or something. Also, I was very tired, and had just eaten a tostada. I kept falling asleep in the theater. Sorry.

Yesterday did not exist.

Today, I decided to go to work again. Naturally my manager isn't here. Like it matters anyway. Like any of it does. My couch is finally ready at the foam store, but I don't think I can go get it. Which means they'll have to ship it, which means it will get lost. Or something.

These people, I'm sure that really, they're good people in their own way, you know? So I can't hate them. I just wish they would be quieter. Or be loud and elsewhere. I don't know. This is what I get for leaving the house, I suppose.





Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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